


The Tale of Indoril

by viva_la_sarah



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Novelization, OC, champion of Cyrodil - Freeform, oblivion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2019-12-26 02:41:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18274145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viva_la_sarah/pseuds/viva_la_sarah
Summary: Indoril grew up in Morrowind hearing tales of Nerevar, the hero she was named after. She never knew she would have to be one herself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her story begins.

The Danovani family revered the tales of Nerevar. Indoril knew this. Her mother being an Ashlander most of her life flooded her little girls head with the tales of the battle of Red Mountain, Kagrenacs betrayal and the defeat of Dagoth Ur by Nerevars Incarnate, the Nerevarine, hundreds of times before. But Indoril was not the Nerevarine,not apart of the Great House Indoril, and definitely not Nerevar. While Nerevar was being renowned in temples all over Morrowind, Indoril was in Cyrodil slumped over a table half asleep in a prison cell as cold as the grave.

The light shone through the window, waking the dunmer, sunlight glaring directly in her red fluttering eyes. She got up from the table, greasy black hair flopping in her face as she held her head walking away from the bothersome light. If one thing didn’t annoy her, it was another. Another dark elf was glaring at her from the other cell. He had a smug impression and Indoril was sure he wasn’t about to be kind. “ _I_ _must_ _surely_ _be_ _dead_ , _and_ _in_ _the_ _halls_ _of_ _Azura_ _to_ _look_ _upon_ _such_ _a_ _vision_. _You_ _are_ _so_ _beautiful_ , _my_ _dear_ _Dunmer_ _maiden_... _One_ _of_ _the_ _guards_ _owes_ _me_ _a_ _favor_ , _you_ _know_. _I_ _could_ _get_ _us_ _put_ _in_ _the_ _same_ _cell_. _Would_ _you_ _like_ _that?_ _You_ _should_ _have_ _some_ _fun_ _before_ _the_ _end_. _Yeah_ , _you_ _heard_ _me_. _No_ _matter_ _what_ _the_ _law_ _says_. _No_ _matter_ _what_ _they_ _told_ _you_. _You're_ _going_ _to_ _die_ _in_ _here!_ _You're_ _going_ _to_ _die!_ “ he spoke with a mocking tone. Indoril couldn’t decide whether she was being sexually harassed or threatened. Luckily he was cut off by steps coming down the stairs “we have to keep moving” a female voice said. A male voice chimed “my sons, they’re dead” more footsteps, “we don’t know that sire” the female chimed back, but there was little hope in her voice.

Shadows and torches approached Indorils’ cell and started unlocking the door It was dim, but Indoril could tell by the ornate armour and garb they were wearing that they weren’t the city guard. They entered the cell and told her to back up, she obliged, apparently she had been put in the wrong cell. Or maybe the right one. The well dressed man in purple robes and a shining red amulet approached Indoril without caution or fear and spoke. “You, you are the one from my dreams. Then this must be the day. Gods give me strength” He told the grey elf of gods and dreams and how her path was intertwined with destiny. Indoril had no idea what he meant, just that she was a rookie Morag Tong assassin that didn’t realize she had crossed the border when she made her kill. Writs of Execution were no good in Cyrodil, and that this was her way out. The man said that he was her emperor, Uriel Septim VII targeted by assassins, and that she could follow them out. She gave a second for them to get ahead enough so the redguard guard, Baurus, would be a bit more at ease, and she ran after them.  
Sure enough there were assassins, pouring into the stone corridor they made their way through. The female guard, Captain Renault, was not so lucky and was downed by a dagger to the throat. Indoril picked up the captains’ swords, she wouldn’t be needing them anymore and the dark elf needed to defend herself. At one point walking down the corridor, Baurus got fed up, saying Indoril could not follow, so Indoril went a different route. Slaying goblins and rats with those very swords. Casting fireballs from a distance when she could and picking up anything useful. All she found was some poorly made leather armour, but it would have to do.  
She made her way back into the corridor, with a skeptical Baurus grabbing his sword and halting her. “What if she’s with the assassins?” he yelled with a fire in his eyes. Uriel raised his hands in protest “No, she will help us. She must help us.” The emperor asked her about her birth sign. “The Thief” she muttered, Uriel then told her that the thief and the Nine would guide her, and that he was going to die soon. Indoril, taken aback by the entire conversaton scoffed “Do you not fear death?” Uriel completely uninsulted smiled and said “I’ve lived a long life, and my ghost will rest easy” the mans calming nature, as crazy as he seemed, calmed Indoril and she smiled back. Baurus rushed everyone through the next corridor, handing Indoril a torch, and urging her along.

They had hit a dead end. There was no where to run. Baurus and the other guard rushed forth to take out spare assasins. Uriel ripped the red diamond necklace from around his neck, thrusting it into Indorils’ hands. “Give this to Jauffre, he alone knows where to find my last son, find him, and close shut the jaws of Oblivion” from behind him an opening appeared, the red clad assassin jumped out and stabbed the emperor in the back and rushed at Indoril. Indoril fired a fireball at the assassin and jumped out of the way of its lunging dagger. She took her sword and slashed him across the stomach, his conjured armour disappeared and she got a clear shot at his heart and plunged the short sword through. It was too late. The emperor was dead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some domestic Indoril.

     Indoril stood in shock. She had defeated the assassin but the damage was more than done. Baurus strode up from behind her solemnly saying “we failed... the emperor is dead... Wait, Where’s the Amulet, The Amulet of King’s?!” Indoril held it up for him to see “I have it right here, it’s safe, Before he died he said I have to get it to Jauffre, there is another heir” Baurus's eyes gleamed just a little brighter, “he saw something in you. Septim’s see more than lesser men." Indoril was relieved that Baurus believed her after all his skepticism. He spoke on to say "Jauffre is the grandmaster of our Order. You can find him in Weynon Priory near Chorrol.” He handed the scruffy dark elf a map and pointed at where it was presumably located. “I’ll guard the emperor's body, you need to get your way out of here. Here’s a key to the sewers. There’s goblins and rats but I think you’ll be alright, won’t you assassin?” Indoril chuckled and accepted the key. “observant aren’t you? I hope I’ll be seeing you again. Farewell for now, by the way, My name is Indoril." She spoke those words as she ran off into the sewer

     Indoril made her way out of the sewer as quickly as possible. She stopped for a second so her eyes could adjust to the sun and looked around, she could see an Ayleid ruin across the water from where she had exited, and the city was right behind her. The morning sunlight beaming on her ash toned skin reminded her how filthy and exhausted she was. She remembered she had tucked away a staff she took off a goblins corpse and some gems she could sell, so she entered the city market district and found a store called “Rindir’s Staffs”. She got a good bit of gold from selling the staff and gems, at The Copious Coinpurse she found a magical bag, with an enchantment to hold as much stuff as she could carry for only about 40 septims. Quite a deal indeed. Only as she was walking out did she glance at what she was wearing, the armour she wore was horribly ill fitting and the leather ripped in unflattering places. She got gods awful looks from the townsfolk, _"They probably think I'm a goblin"_ she thought to herself. It was only 2pm but Indoril thought it a good plan to get a bath and rest.

     The Tiber Septim hotel was probably one of the most high class places Indoril had ever been to in her life. Her father was a temple priest when she was very small, so she had seen the temple of Vivec and it’s tapestries and finery, but this was quite different, to be honest, she was surprised they let her in. Everyone walking around had gold trimmed shoes and Indoril more than a bit out of place, she didn’t do this kind of thing often but after what she went through, she _needed_ it. She rented a room, requested a bath, and immediately made her way to it before anyone could ask questions. She heated the basin with a simple fireball spell, set out the different soaps and oils along the edges of it, stripped off the hellishly dirty armour and soaked and scrubbed until there was not a spec of dirt on her. " _I could almost pass as an Altimer_ " she chuckled at the thought. Her  fluffy black hair, now clean and wet, gently framed her face as she emerged from the now cold water. She strode across the room to the wardrobe where luckily someone had left a red dress and some soft but plain shoes. She changed into it and lay down on the green silk sheets and fell into a deep much needed slumber.

     Until that is, she was awoke. " _you sleep rather soundly for a murderer_ " He spoke as if she was in a dream. Her eyes fluttered open to see the man at the end of her bed. Her heart almost stopped as she took in his appearance, robes blacker than black, intimidating and dangerous. He lowered his hood. He looked to be a Breton, or maybe Imperial, with a five o'clock shadow and black hair slicked back in a low ponytail. "My name is Lucien Lachance, speaker for the Dark Brotherhood, but i take it you've heard of us considering your former occupation. " _So hes only HALF Breton_ " she thought, taking note of his last name, as she nodded her head. "The Morag Tong knows all about your little guild Mr. Lachance, I am no exception." she said, as confidently as she could, but there was a shake to her voice that made Lucien smirk. "The Black Hand heard of your kill on the border of Cyrodil. You were definitely in Brotherhood territory. We are very interested in your deathcraft Ms. Danovani." he said, his words sounding like butter to Indorils ears. "Is this a threat?' Indoril asked. "No, my dear, this is simply an invitation, I bring you a gift aswell. A virgin blade." he said as he handed her a rather expensive looking ebony dagger with beautiful gold detail. " Go to the Inn of Ill Omen on the Green Road north of Bravil. There you will find a man named Rufio, kill him and that will be your initiation to the Dark Brotherhood. Do this, and the next time you sleep in a location I deem secure, I will reveal myself once more, bearing the love of your new family. Although.." he trailed off, glancing at the Amulet of Kings on her nightstand. "I understand you have a more pressing matter to attend to." Indoril got out of bed, scooped up the amulet and tucked it in her bag, embarrassed she had left it in plain sight "Ah yes, nothing to worry about, I will consider your offer Mr. Lachance" she muttered as she stuffed the bag under the bed. Lucien stifled back a laugh "I assure you I am no thief, especially not one that would end all of Nirn for a few septims, now Ms.Danovani, Have a nice night." he said as he headed for the door. Indoril was in shock. How did he know about the Amulet? "What do you know about me and how exactly do you know it?' she yelled, to which Lucien Lachance replied "Oh dear sister, I don't spread rumors, _I create them."_

__

 

__


	3. Chapter 3

     Indoril woke up bright and early, combed her hair through with her fingers and putting her inadequate armour back on. She stuffed the dress into the enchanted bag and checked out of her room to make her way to Weynon Priory. Walking out of the Imperial city she remembered everything the assassin had told her and though over his proposition. " _I'm piss poor and could definitely use some work, maybe a detour to that inn wouldn't be too bad._ "

     The Inn of Ill Omen was to put it in short terms, a shithole. Indoril carefully entered the splintery wooden door to be greeted by a loud and burly Nord. "Welcome to the Inn of Ill Omen friend! Sit down and have a drink." Indoril nodded to the man and surveyed the room as she crossed the room to the bar. Sitting at one of the tables was an Imperial Legion forester. " _Just what I needed to run into_ " Indoril wasn't expecting such company. So, Indoril did what any Dunmer girl with any sense would do. She belted "I'd like to rent a room for the night, also get me a pint of mead for that Imperial over there!" The Legionnaire smiled at her. Indoril slid 20 septims to the Nord and changed into her dress in her room and came back down. No one in the room looked like Rufio, and there was only two rooms in the place. The Legionnaire sat down next to her, interrupting her thoughts. "I've never met such a kind and pretty Dark Elf, what are you doing in a place like this?" he asked while gesturing for the Nord to refill his pint. The mer twirled her hair, "I'm just looking for a family member of mine, thought they might be living in Bravil" "Well, what is your family name?" the Imperial said in a sympathetic tone. Clearly he was a good man, but for the mission at hand Indoril could not reveal her surname. she thought about that sketchy dark elf from the prison. "Dreth" she exclaimed, "I'm looking for my uncle, Valen Dreth." The Legionnaire then got a knowing look in his eyes. "Well, I hope you find him." he said solemnly and dropped the subject. 

 Indoril was thankful that he quit asking questions. She even ordered him another pint, happily asking him about his service in the Legion when she heard a clatter from across the room. An old man stumbled out of a seemingly hidden trap door. " _That's where hes been hiding"_ she thought as she watched the man stumble up to the barkeep and ask for cheese and bread. As the old man stumbled back down the ladder, the Imperial beside her yawned. "I'm about to hit the hay, Its been a pleasure talking to you Ms. Dreth." he said as he made his way up to his room. the night seemed to be winding down and the barkeep started blowing out candles. Indoril made her way to her room. Now all she had to do was wait.

    Indoril took a two hour nap, her alarm being a nail she pulled out of the floorboard stuck in her candle. She woke and there was nothing but silence, the drunk Legionnaire and barkeep were fast asleep. " _Perfect_ " She sneaked down the stairs, down the unlocked trap door to the basement. The frail old man lie asleep in his bed. Indoril took out the ornate dagger Lachance had given her.  she grabbed his neck and held the dagger to it. “The Dark Brotherhood sends their regards, Rufio" she whispered as his eyes fluttered open for the last time.  _"_ Oh, please, no! I can pay you! Name your price! Anything! Anything! Please, just let me live! _"_ he begged. "You definitely did something to deserve this, I can see it" Indoril exclaimed as she held the dagger closer.  "No! Please! I didn't mean to do it, you understand me? She struggled! I... I told her to just stay still, but she wouldn't listen! I had no choi-" Indoril slashed the dagger across his throat, ending the mans life. She wiped the dagger on his shirt and head back up the ladder, then out the front door, into the void of the night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Indoril meets Jauffre

     It was a long walk to Weynon Priory, and Indoril was lost in thought on the way there. She just wanted to get this trip over and done with so she rested seldomly, occasionally stopping to wash up, or stab a highwayman with her ornate dagger. She still had her silver shortsword, but her new toy was too much _fun_. She wondered what she would do after delivering the amulet. _“Probably just work_ _for the Dark Brotherhood until_ _I have_ _enough coin to get back to Morrowind and be with mom”_ she thought, nodding to herself as she made her way down the Black Road.

     Exhausted as can be, Indoril made it to Weynon Priory. It was dusk of the following day, and she really hoped they’d allow her a place to sleep for such an important delivery. There was a chapel to her right, and what looked to be a large house to her left. She entered the large double doors to the house with a huff. A very much balding man approached her. “Excuse me, I’m Prior Maborel, how may I help you?” he said politely. “I’m looking for Jauffre” the elf replied shyly. “Ah, right this way then” the Prior said as he led her up the stairs. Indoril glanced to the right and saw a row of beds, probably set up for the priors and such, but Indoril felt extreme longing for sleep and it was hard to follow Prior Maborel the opposite direction. 

     The elderly Breton sat at his desk in what looked like to be an office. “I’m Brother Jauffre, what is it you need?” “I have the Amulet of Kings” the mer replied with a gulp

     Jauffre stood at his desk “What is this? What do you know of the emporer’s death?” “I was there when he died, he said to find his heir and close shut the jaws of Oblivion. He said the Prince of Destruction has returned.” Jauffre took this in and thought a moment. His hand now resting on his chin with a puzzled look as he thought outloud  _"_ The Prince of Destruction he referred to is none other than Mehrunes Dagon, one of the lords of the demonic world of Oblivion. The Emperor's words-- "Close shut the jaws of Oblivion"-- certainly suggest that he perceived some threat from Oblivion. But all the scholars agree that the mortal world is protected from the daedra of Oblivion by magical barriers."

“Then how would Oblivion ever become a threat?” the Dunmer replied, now genuinely curious. “I'm not sure. Only the Emperors truly understand the meaning behind the rituals of coronation. The Amulet of Kings is ancient. Saint Alessia herself received it from the gods. It is a holy relic of great power. When an Emperor is crowned, he uses the Amulet to light the Dragonfires at the Temple of the One in the Imperial City _._ With the Emperor dead and no new heir crowned, the Dragonfires in the Temple will be dark, for the first time in centuries. It may be that the Dragonfires protected us from a threat that only the Emperor was aware of." Indoril leaned against the bookcase on the wall. “That is quite the predicament, so what about this son I heard about?” Indoril said. Jauffre replied saying “Iam one of the few who know of his existence. Many years ago, I served as captain of Uriel's bodyguards, the Blades. One night Uriel called me in to his private chambers. A baby boy lay sleeping in a basket. Uriel told me to deliver him somewhere safe. He never told me anything else about the baby, but I knew it was his son. From time to time he would ask about the child's progress. Now, it seems that this illegitimate son is the heir to the Septim Throne. If he yet lives." “Well, where can we find him?” the dark elf implored. “His name is Martin, he’s a priest of Akatosh in the city of Kvatch south of here. I fear he is in grave danger, you must help us retrieve him. I know you are tired, so you may eat and rest here for tonight. Tommorow you must go find him as soon as possible. I will keep the Amulet safe and we will provide you with assistance.” 

     The very tired dunmer ate more than her fill of sweetrolls and venison then made her way lazily up the stairs, not bothering to put her bag in the chest at the end of the bed she chose. Just laying it down and collapsing into the blankets. Before she drifted into a deep slumber, she thought to herself “ _I’m in over my head.”_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Indoril is a secret dumbass. Thank you Apollo for this amazing drawing and making her come to life.

     Indoril woke to being VIOLENTLY shaken.

”You sleep a little.. too soundly for a murderer” Lucien said with his usual oaky voice, differed by a touch of exasperation, as he nudged the freshly awakening elf. Indoril rubbed her ears squinting at the assassin as her eyes adjusted to the light.

“How the hell did you find me here?” Indoril asked, sitting up in bed.

”The Dark Brotherhood knows many things dear sister. You have signed a covenant, the manner of execution your signature, the blood of Rufio the ink. You are now officially a member of the Black Hand. You now serve Sithis and the Night Mother”

”Glad to hear I passed your initiation, but really, why approach me here?” the mer asked gesturing at her surroundings. “We are at a Priory, and I know those monks didn’t just let you in.” 

“They are all at the chapel I presume, and last time I checked you were worse for wear. I brought you something.” the assassin rummaged through his bag to pull out a strange black leather armour and hood, and a small bag that was presumably gold. “Next time you want work, you will need to head to Cheydinhal, within the abandoned house on the east end. Attempt to open the Black Door in the basement. You will be asked a question. Answer thusly “ _Sanguine_ _my_ _brother_ ” you will gain entrance to the sanctuary, once inside speak with Ocheeva. She is the one that was supposed to give you that armour, but considering what you were wearing before I thought you might need it as soon as possible.”

Indoril, still sitting in bed unfolded the shrouded leather armour and fluffed it out. It had straps across the chest and a belt on the waist, and it felt to be full of enchantments. It was possibly the nicest armour Indoril had ever owned.

”I almost feel like your trying to buy my love _dear_ _brother”_ she stifled a chuckle. This whole “sibling” and “night mother” thing was going to be a lot to get used to.

Lucien could practically read her mind.

”The rest of your new family lies at the Cheydinhal sanctuary, as soon as you’re schedule is free I suggest heading there. Now I better be off before these monks come back and try to convert me.” Lucien said as he turned away and headed down the stairs. 

“Goodbye Speaker Lachance” Indoril muttered, almost to herself as she heard him cast a chameleon spell to make sure no one saw him leave. 

“Goodbye Dearest Sister” she barely heard as the door shut behind him. Indoril finally hopped out of the bed and began to undress. She quickly redressed in her new armour, she didn’t want to be caught undressed by any of the monks coming back from chapel. “ _That would be a new level of embarrassing”_ she thought as she looked at the fit of the armour. It was a little tight, with just enough give and with the hood up she would certainly blend into darkness _perfectly,_  and the fact it complimented what little curve her elven form had was nice too _._ She would have to thank Ocheeva, whoever that was.

    Brother Jauffre and the other monks returned not too long after, urging Indoril to get on the road and find whoever this Martin guy was. As she was sitting down to eat, Prior Maborel spoke up, offering his horse as assistance and insisting she must take it. Indoril had never ridden or seen a horse up close, but assumed it couldn’t be too hard.

     Indoril asked the Dark Elf stablehand Eronor which horse was Prior Maborels.

”Ah, it should be the Paint Horse, go right on ahead” Eronor replied as he continued to shovel hay. So, Indoril went to the stable. 

“ _What in Oblivion is a Paint Horse_?” She thought, staring at the stable. There were horses of all colors, and none of them looked painted. Annoyed, Indoril walked back to Eronor.

”Excuse me Eronor, but which horse is it? Can you point it out?” 

Eronor sighed and led Indoril to the stable. He pointed at a multicolored horse. “Paint Horses are multicolored. Did you think it was actually painted?”

”O-of course not” she replied while approaching the horse. Eronor walked away, mumbling something that sounded like “s’wit”

Indoril then began attempting to jump on the horse. After failed attempts and repeatedly kicking it’s ribs the horse began to neigh loudly and nip at Indoril. She gave it one last big attempt and much to her surprise, she was at last mounted on the horse, as soon as she thought she was past the hard part she found herself flying past the horses head and face first into a pile of hay. Eronor came running after hearing all the commotion.

Eronor ended up having to teach Indoril the bare basics of mounting and riding a horse, at least so she wouldn’t get bucked off again. Indoril admitted she had not been around horses much and thanked Eronor graciously. Finally she could be off to Kvatch.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Indoril finally gets to Kvatch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry last months chapter was slow. I’ll try to make longer chapters in the future.

     It was a long ride to Kvatch and the horse riding novice was starting to get saddle sores when she notice the weather start to change.

“ _This is like what father used to say about ash storms”_ she thought as the sky started to turn a strange maroon shade and the wind began to whip dirt from the road into the horses eyes, causing him to squint and slow.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by an Altmer running and screaming at her as she approached what appeared to be a city of tents. 

“What’s going on with this.. strange storm and tent city? And why all the screaming?”

"Gods' blood, you don't know, do you? Daedra overran Kvatch last night! There were glowing portals outside the walls! Gates to Oblivion itself! There was a huge creature... something out of a nightmare... came right over the walls... blasting fire. They swarmed around it... killing..." the dazed Altmer darted his eyes  , clearly fearful of whatever he had seen.

“How did you make it out alive? Is Martin alright?” Indoril asked while sliding off her horse. 

 _"_ It was Savlian Matius... some of the other guards... helped some of us escape... they cut their way out, right through the city gates. Savlian says they can hold the road. No... no, I don't believe him. Nothing can stop them. If you'd seen it, you'd know... as for the priest, he’s probably as dead as the rest of them. They’re all dead, I’m running while I still have the chance” the high elf ran down the road that Indoril had just come from. She checked out the tent city and all of the people said the same things. Daedra attacks, gates to Oblivion, death and destruction, but that the guards still held the road. Indoril thought for sure her mission to find Martin was doomed from the start.

     Lo and behold the guards still held the road in front of the ruined city and a massive portal with numerous monsters pouring out. Despite being told to halt, Indoril approached the most well armoured guard, Savlian Matius and asked what was going on. 

 _"_ We lost the damned city, that's what happened! It was too much, too fast. We were overwhelmed. Couldn't even get everyone out. There are still people trapped in there. Some made it into the Chapel, but others were just run down in the streets. The Count and his men are still holed up in the castle. And now we can't even get back into the city to help them, with that damned Oblivion Gate blocking the way."

”Do you know where Martin could be?” Indoril desperately asked.

"You mean the priest? Last I saw him, he was leading a group towards the Chapel of Akatosh. If he's lucky, he's trapped in there with the rest of them, at least safe for the moment. If he's not..."

”Then what can we do to stop it?” 

The guard looked at Indoril with shock, awe, and possibly.. admiration.

”The enemy opened a larger gate last night for the initial siege that destroyed most of the city, if we could get inside and figure out how to close those things then maybe we will have a chance of taking my godsdamned home back, but we’ve sent men in, and none have come out.” Savlian said, sorrow heavy in his voice.

     Savlians’ words struck the tiniest spark of hope into Indoril. “ _It can be closed_ ” she thought as she looked at the hell-gate, with scamps and spider daedra pouring out. “ _I can close it”_ she thought as her feet turned toward the gate and began to move her forward. _“I can close it”_ she thought as she began to ran toward the gate to oblivion. She didn’t hear the guards scream at her to stop. She didn’t trade her new assassin armour for something more suitable for large numbers of enemies. She didn’t pay attention to the fireball that grazed her elbow as she reached for her short sword to behead a scamp. She just moved forward, through the nearly scorching hellfire of the gate and into the deadlands of Oblivion.


End file.
